


Pale hands with shaky rings

by RPGCATZ



Category: Everyman HYBRID
Genre: Gen, Im venting onto vin because I feel like it, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Reanimation, Mentions of Violence, Post-Canon, Vent-fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-07 02:56:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14661870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RPGCATZ/pseuds/RPGCATZ
Summary: Sometimes Vinny breaks down and just needs to cry for a bit.





	Pale hands with shaky rings

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Meadows by Wild Child  
> —  
> -Trigger Warnings-
> 
> •death mentions  
> •self hate/blame  
> •crying  
> •cussing  
> •Caz(me) venting onto Vinny because I’m in a mood  
> •violence mentions  
> —  
> Do feel free to tell me if I missed any.  
> Be safe, loves!

Vincent was trying to keep the happy facade on.

He was trying, he really was. 

But the room was loud and his heart  hurt, and Vinny wanted to break the table under his arms and smash a plate and scream and yell and cry and fucking curl up into a ball and float off into a void. 

But he couldn’t. 

He was in the kitchen with Jeff and Evan laughing about some stupid shit that Alex said or did or whatever the fuck happened and Vinny was on the verge of tears. 

But he needed to be happy for them. 

He had been sad for so long the year before and now he needed to give time to Jeff and Evan and Alex and Steph to breakdown and cry and need him, but he was in so much pain and he couldn’t tell them. 

He didn’t want them to worry anymore. 

He was just overreacting.

He was fine.

Everyone would go through bad stuff, it didn’t mean that he had it any worse. 

Everything it did was his fault anyways, so why did he deserve to be sad?

His lip quivered and he pushed the kitchen chair back, a bit forcefully and a bit too loud and with a heaving chest and shaking shoulders, and he stiffly walked out and into the guest room he was staying in.

He slammed his back against the wall next to the closed door and felt tears pulling at his eyes and a headache throbbing deep in his skull.

Shoving a quivering hand behind his glasses, he scrubbed at his eyes, and bit down onto his lip until blood pooled into his mouth. 

The dark remembrance of pale, dirty fingers closing around his throat and a raspy voice yelling at him and pulling roughly at his shirt and hair and cutting and choking and degrading and breaking him was present in his screaming mind and he pushed down harder onto his eyes and sobbed. 

He could see the knives and the rope and the guns and the blood, god the blood on his hands and it’s hands and it’s too wide smile on the face of his only living friend at the time. His chest felt like it was collapsing and he felt a scream building in his throat. 

He was shaking on the carpeted floor and grabbing at his hair and pulling it. He had knocked off his own glasses at some point and had started rocking himself at another. 

It was too much, too much, far too much for his to handle. He was going to die. He was going to die because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and his eyes dry and it was going to kill him for its own enjoyment. It was going to kill him. _He_ was going to kill him. He was going to kill Vinny. 

_Hab-_

_Ha-_

Vinny choked on a sob, and opened his burning eyes. Coughing and shaking and riding off the feeling of cold, pale hands wrapped around his throat, Vinny stared out into the open room. 

There was no looming figure, no taunting smile, no blood, no screams, no purple duct tape in x formations.

No untouchable weapon table, no kiddy chair or flood lights in the attic. 

Vinny shut his eyes. He couldn’t bare to look at the watery and blurred image of the room in front of him anymore. 

Too much, too much. 

It was all too much. 

Static rang and thrummed in his skull and covered the sound of what Vinny guessed was knocking at the wooden door to his side. 

Someone called to him through the wood, but it blurred with the ringing in his ears and Vinny couldn’t make any sort of response crawl from his dry throat, so he waited until whoever was on the other side of the door presumably left to even attempt to get up. 

His legs were shaky and his vision was still shit due to not having his glasses on.

Swipping furiously at his eyes and reaching blindly for his glasses, Vinny took a deep breath.

He adjusted his glasses back onto his still tear dampened face. 

He took another breath. 

And another. 

And another, and another.

Vinny shut his eyes, counted back from ten, and opened his eyes again. 

He felt numb, yet felt too much all at the same time. 

Running a hand through his hair, he took one more big breath, and let it out slowly. He nodded to himself and reached for the door handle. 

Opening it was easy, but facing the others that laid on the other side was harder. 

He padded out, and tried his hardest to sneak into the living room and lay on the couch. His body was heavy, and he felt drained. 

Turning the corner, he came face to face with Alex and Steph, who both looked at him sympathetically from their places on the floor and couch, respectively. 

Vinny looked to the side, avoiding their gazes. 

“You doin’ okay Vinny?” Steph spoke to him gently, a tone of worry dripping into her soft voice. 

His throat was still dry and swallowing and speaking seemed impossible due to the lump that had formed in his voice box. He didn’t nod or shake his head, he just shrugged and kept looking away from her. 

She looked to Alex, who looked to her, and the both of then stood quietly and moved in Vinny’s direction. Alex reached him first and wrapped his arms softly around Vinny’s stomach. Steph reached him next, and she wrapped one arm around Alex’s shoulders while her other hand gently pushed Vinny’s head down to rest into the crook of her neck. 

Vinny closed his eyes and tried not to let his breath catch in his throat. But it did, and the tears were back suddenly. 

He was shaking by the time Evan and Jeff showed up. 

Jeff had placed himself behind Vinny and was rubbing small circles into his back while Evan had squeezed himself close to Vinny and Steph, and was gently whispering sweet words into his ear. 

Vincent shook, and eventually sobbed, but he was being held.

He was being held together by his four reanimated friends. They were alive, they were alive and he was with them. 

He was alive,

And he would just have to let them help him deal with it,

one way or another. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey uh, I love the idea that Vinny was the last survivor and that somehow everyone else got brought back. So yeah, I love my little reanimated family and I would die for each and every one of them. 
> 
> As Always,  
> Comments and Kudos are much appreciated loves!~


End file.
